A Certain indispensable Railgun
by Henthorne
Summary: Mikoto Misaka's life has not gone according to plan, at least not her plans. Completely disgraced both in Academy City and the United Earth Force she needs to find redemption. Will a mysterious off-world corporation provide it, or just a final chance at death. Part of the Mars, Inc story. For even more Mars, Inc back-story read "Time To Travel - Ataru's Chance at Freedom"


A Certain Indispensable Railgun

Mikoto Misaka flipped a sixty credit coin in the air. She caught it without looking and felt again the surge of power along her arm, the automatic tingle that signaled her power was ready for the signature move – Railgun. The action was nearly involuntary and the memory it triggered was well-worn groove for her memories.

_Noa in a playground, spark in his palm. Smiles. Laughter. A day without battles and without problems. Noa was the little boy she met back in middle school, back in Academy City._

"_Keep working," she told him. "We all start out that way."_

The clink of a plastic cup against the metal table. Mikoto looked up. A waiter, just a boy, looked down. Blond hair, wide nose, single-fold eyes; American. She flipped him the coin and the boy fumbled to catch it, then frowned at her when he saw how much it was.

"keep it," she told him in English.

"Hai! Arigato," he replied.

Mikoto shook her head but did not smile. The boy wandered off and Mikoto returned to waiting and remembering.

"Ten years," she thought, "since Academy city. Did the Jovians destroy it?" She smiled at that. The idea of children running around uncovering evil plots and destroying monsterous, inhuman powers all by them selves was ludicrous – powers or not.

_She thought of Noa again. Three years later and his new school work pressing down. His powers so strong and him so eager to join Justice – just like her._

_The school taught students her Railgun move as a technique along with the electro-chainsaw-whips and iron-sand shields. Level two and three kids, just out of teens themselves, showing children how to make weapons. She encouraged it. There was just so much danger around. It all made sense at the time. Noa was so proud to make level four, to know how to railgun, to be in Justice at eleven years old. She was stupid but she was so young._

"Kami-sama watches over fools and the young," she thought.

She cried and sniffed and blinked away a tear. She tasted the coffee. It was bitter, but coffee was never good this close to UEF Pacific Command. The bitter taste on her tongue changed her mood and snapped her memories forward.

_Then in quick succession came a new threat. A drug that let normal people experience powers. Justice was tested as thousands pushed on a system designed to police a few hundred. On a patrol, late at night, Noa leading a group of older level twos and threes around their small section, searching for anyone fighting with powers. _

_He found two. Cameras caught the battle and she watched the discs._

_Two men so high on the drug they could warp matter. Noa did as he was trained but the men would not listen. The others attacked and Noa watched the men kill them one after another. They came after him and in defense he used railgun – the ultimate weapon of an electromaster._

_The shot was perfect and perfectly deflected. At mach three the coin evaporated but not before puncturing and setting fire to a passing blimp. Noa's shock gave the men enough time to counter attack._

_His body was never found but a seven hundred meter stain on the highway matched his DNA._

_The attack named 'railgun' was banned for use by anyone other than level five electromasters. The school quietly asked Mikoto to leave Justice._

_She felt betrayed. Training the other children in the railgun move was Academy City's idea, not hers. She protested. The school informed her that charges would be brought against her for child endangerment if she persisted. In a show of love Kuroko left Justice as well, but her love of battle made her regret the decision. Three months later Kuroko joined once more and finally left Mikoto behind. _

_She was shocked at how deep her feelings for her former room-mate went and there were times after Kuroko left when she thought of asking her out on a date just to be together again._

_Graduation and six months on, the first Jovian attacks on asteroid miners. The Io probe destroyed, Index's death and Kmijo's disappearance. The first Lunar attacks and the launch of the Big Barrier. She wanted to be a part of it. She was so young and still so stupid._

"Kami-sama watch over the fools," she whispered.

_The UEF knocked on her door with the magic words to hook her. "Work for us. Top secret. Only you can help us."_

_They had her at the knock._

_She ran to them and took their oath and the first shuttle up to Lunar defense. The sprawling base inside the Sea of Tranquility and all that training: training to march;training to fire rifles; training to crawl and climb and run and fight hand-to-hand as if space would allow any of those things. Finally there was training to fly the Spark Ships. The pilot tattoo on her hand tingled with the memory. An interface designed to bring the mind of the pilot into lock with the controls of the ship. From the very first day the ship felt to her like a second skin. Thrusting feet, sensor eyes, wings sprouting from her shoulders and her hands held before her to fire bolts of electricity._

_Effortless. And still there was the training. The others in her squadron each had troubles. Arina could not get his thrusters to respond. Terra's weapons never fired correctly. Pietre's sensors never sent him sound. Bugs persisted and so did training. _

"_Training will fix the problem," quoted the sergeant and so the training continued._

Mikoto did not drink the coffee. She stared out across the cafeteria while patrons at other tables stared back at her and whispered and pointed. She smelled the hot fry-oil for the American potatoes and the lingering sweet-sour odor of Kimchi. Somewhere, she knew, a screen displayed her face. Somewhere her image and her name and the word "court-martial" came up in a Google search, on a blog, on one of the endless news feeds. And undoubtedly the nickname Railgun appeared underneath.

_The Jovians attacked the moon again. Her squad waited on the pads. Commanders held them back as a surprise for the 'cold blooded bastards'. Mikoto reached her sensors out into the void and saw the action around her. Jovian robots swarmed in precise strikes while UEF drones and blastwings swooped and looped and exploded around them. The robots, normally alone on an attack, had backup now. Big robot gunships rushed in behind the bots to blow out the stationary guns, the launch bay doors and the launch pads for late attackers._

_When she saw the big gunship headed for her squad what else could she do? She launched on over-ride with Lunar Control shouting in her ears to land. Her thrusters fired at a thought and she twisted and twirled among the enemy like a barracuda in a school of tuna. The bots scattered too late and she picked off groups – five or ten at a time. Then she focused on the gunship. The big gun, and that was all it was, blasted at her. She already predicted the blast-path and dodged before the lightspeed weapon flashed, then fired away herself. It took three hits but the gunship tumbled and disintegrated over the Lunar soil._

_It was too late. Her squad launched just after her. No amount of training saved them. They lagged and sputtered, misfired and tumbled. The bots picked them off one by one. Between the five of them there were two kills. Mikoto stopped counting after her first fifty._

_She'd given the forces in her sector enough time to regroup and take out the other gunships while ground defenses were repaired. With one sector stable others came back strong. The battle was won. Mikoto would be a hero._

"_Disobeying orders. General disregard for the welfare of your squad members. Endangering military equipment. Exposing secrets to the enemy. General recklessness in the face of the enemy."_

_She was not a hero. After the battle, when she docked and the elevator lowered her ship back into the bay, M.P.s surrounded her. Their rifles aimed at the cockpit. She was arrested, handcuffed, and lead through the half-destroyed Tranquility base. The horrible scent of trapped smoke, arcing electricity, and human blood lingered everywhere. She spent the next two months confined to her squad room, now empty of any other people. Once a day for those two months, M.P.s came to lead her off to a work detail somewhere in the base. They used her like a human welding torch, circuit tester, battery. Once, she stood in a hallway feeding power into a cable as squad after squad of new recruits marched by, sergeants barking order to the noobs._

"_Eyes left. F-Squad Eagles will not look at the prisoner Railgun." or other such endearments._

_It was her fault. That's what the admirals told everyone. Yes, the start of the battle was a disaster. The Jovian gunships shocked even the big brains. At mid-battle the secret weapons piloted by Railgun and her squad were to be launched to deliver a surprise blow. Mikoto launched without orders – for herself, for her own glory. It was all her fault the battle was not decisive. All Railgun's fault. _

_She performed her duties alone except for the silent M.P.s. She ate alone in an empty mess hall after all the others were through. She slept alone in her squad room, and what was worse she was forbidden to clean up the mess her squad mates left when they scrambled. Their unmade bunks collected dust. Their dirty clothes covered the floor. A magazine forever open to an article on jet racers. Hyacinth-scented soap drying in the shower dishes. An open locker door always showing a pin-up calendar marked off to the date of the attack._

_It was as if they were all just gone for a while and coming back._

_The first night she cried for her friends. They were dead and no one could bring them back. The next night she cried for herself, and all the other nights after that. _

_Command called her guilty. The press called her guilty. The other troops whispered she was guilty. She felt guilty._

_After two months she knew what she could do to solve the problem._

_Two thousand volts to her brain would fry her instantly. No one could stop her. _

_Mikoto lay down in her bunk, her fingers to the side of her head. She felt the charge along her arm and thought 'goodbye'._

_She could not do it. She tried again. Nothing. She could not release. She sat up and fired a jolt out at a nearby table. The arc flared and when she could see the table again there was nothing but a smoking pile of melted steel, burning paper and smoking paint._

_Fingers to her head again but she just could not make herself do it. Another test-zap. Another desk blown away. And then again, and again. By the time the M.P.s arrived the smoke filled room held little which was not melted or charred in some way. They found her with her finger to her temple sending micro-jolts, trying again and again to work up to killing herself._

"Kami-sama, protect us fools," she thought.

_Back on Earth. Two months in a hospital receiving treatment for suicide attempts, depression, and a hat-full of disorders too esoteric to remember._

_Reassignment as a file clerk in the Pacific Command while the Nadesico launched, wishing she could be on it. She watched, still alone, in the commissary as the Nergal spaceship took on the UEF. It tickled her that Captain Yurika blasted through the Big Barrier without much effort, showing the public that the UEF was not all powerful. _

_Her court-martial pushed up a week. Reporters all the time. Charges dropped and investigations into her mistreatment buried. She was guilty of disobeying orders and sent back to clerking. That was all last week. _

Now this. In the morning two M.P.s escorted her from her desk. They lead her away without a word. A captain gave the M.P.s (but not her) a short briefing while she stood nearby.

"Bring her to the cafeteria. Hold her until the hearing board is ready."

That had been five long hours ago. Two M.P.s stood beside the table. One looked at her.

"Time," he said. "Arraignment starts in ten minutes."

Outside the cafeteria's glass doors two dogged reporters waited.

"Railgun! Railgun! What do you think will happen?"

"Do you blame the UEF for your treatment? Do you think you're guilty?"

Mikoto remained silent.

The five of them walked along the long, arcing corridor of the command center. On the way people pointed, whispered, stared. Once, a young man shouted something that sounded like 'Kotzany!" at her, which made the guard smile.

Eventually they came to a pair of steel doors. The guards scanned their badges in the reader. The doors hissed open and the lights flickered on. Mikoto followed the guards inside and the doors closed, leaving the reporters outside. The room was large and full of vacant benches all facing forward so that the first thing Mikoto thought of was a chapel, and the next was the memorial service for her squad members. It held the odors of too many meeting, of spilled coffee, flop-sweat, and stale cologne. A series of four monitors hung on the front wall like four stained glass windows, each showing the same scene; a UEF flag waving against a blue sky. Mikoto knew somewhere up there was a camera. There was always a camera.

She turned to a guard. "Should I sit or...?"

"Please stand," answered the guard. He and his partner remained near the back of the benches standing at ease.

The screens blanked out, then switched to scenes of four UEF officers in the blue and red uniforms of command, one to each screen. There was a moment of confusion as each officer oriented to the view on their own screens and then, when everyone knew which way to face one officer spoke up.

"I'm sure we'd all like this business over with as soon as possible," he said. "Let's not linger on formalities but get straight to it."

"Aye," answered the rest of the officers. The leader looked straight at the camera and by default, at Mikoto.

"Mikoto Misaka," he barked, "You have been found guilty of charges of disobeying order and gross negligence." He announced the charges as if he did not agree with them in the least.

"The United Earth Force now sentences you to be dishonorably discharged and all the rights and privileges accorded to UEF officers to be with-held all the days of your life."

The officer rapped an unseen gavel on his desk.

"We are adjourned," he announced, and one by one the screens flickered back to the flag against the blue sky.

The laser printer at the edge of the monitors clicked, then whirred to life. It spit two pages into its tray. A guard removed the pages, then walked to Mikoto and produced a pen.

"Sign both copies," he told her, "and keep one for yourself."

She read the top page. In bold letters it read 'Orders of Dishonorable Discharge' with line after line of legal jargon proclaiming exactly what she was giving up. The second page was a copy.

"That man, out in the hallway, the one who shouted at me as we passed. What did he say?"

"Please sign the papers," said the guard.  
"Do you know what he said?" she asked.

"Please sign."

She took the pen from the guard's hand, then signed one paper, then the other, in light, shaky scratches.

"I'm not used to using a pen," she told the guard with a smile and handed him the pen and the top copy.

The guard took both and carefully placed the pen back in his shirt pocket. He examined the signature, then removed a digital stamp from the same pocket and pressed it against the paper. The other guard repeated the process with a stamp of his own.

"That man was Korean," the guard said. "He called you a coward."

"You smiled," said Mikoto.

"I agreed," responded the guard.

The other guard, still holding the orders, stepped to the door.

"This room is reserved for military personnel," he said. "Vacate now."

Mikoto felt her anger rise, but with it came the memories of her squad members, and instead of electrical charges to her hands, tears came to her eyes.

"Kami-sama protect me," she said in a whisper and walked to the doors.

With a hiss the doors parted. The dozen or so reporters waiting outside pushed through.

"Railgun!"

"Railgun! What will you do now?"

"Did you abandon your squad?"

"Are you working for the Jovians?"

"Are you working for Nergal? Did you disobey orders to give the Nadesico cover to escape?"

"What will you say to the families of your team members?"

"By order of the United Earth Force, this room is off-limits to civilians," shouted one guard.

"Everyone out, now!" shouted the other one.

The guards took Mikoto by her hand and half lead-half thrust her into the center of the group, then spread their arms wide and began marching the crowd into the hallway. Reporters scrambled out of their way and continued asking questions.

"Do you have a Jovian lover?"

"Did you try to commit suicide to join your team mates?"

"Are you against the war? Do you have any plans?"

Mikoto pushed and pushed against the reporters as the doors hissed closed behind them all.

"I have no comment," she said. "No comment. Please! Go away. Let me go. Please!"

It was then she heard protests from the back of the crowd.

"Watch it!"

"Hey! I have a right to be here!"

She looked up. Four men in red riot helmets stood taller than the reporters and they pushed through to Mikoto. As a reflex she stepped back from the men as they drew closer. Another voice, this one meek and polite, could be heard making its way through the parting crowd.

"Excuse me. Pardon me. Gomen. Mercie."

The four men who Mikoto could now see wore red jumpsuits and black jack boots made a space around her into which the polite man stepped. He was neat and business-like but with wire-rimmed glasses, neatly parted hair, red bow-tie and yellow suspenders, looked to Mikoto like an accounting-clown. He stood and addressed the reporters.

"Miss Misaka has no comment at this time," he announced.

"Who are you?" asked a reporter.

Mikoto was just as eager to hear the response.

"A friend," answered the man and his four companions spread out just enough to remind the crowd what kind of friends _he_ had.

"Miss Misaka will release a statement later today," he added.

A sigh of disappointment escaped the reporters as if someone had pulled their plugs. The four big men and the accountant-clown closed in around Mikoto. They lead her away and she was relieved the reporters did not follow.

"Who are you?" she asked when the reporters were gone.

"I will answer any question you have in a few minutes," the man answered.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"That would be a question."

Mikoto could not tell if the man was joking.

Eventually they exited the building and stood beneath the steel canopy of the main entrance.

Heavy rain fell, spanging off the metal and cascading down to the plas-crete roadway below. Past the canopy the rain fell in sizzling waves, running deep in the gutters and bringing the heavy Summer scent of hot, wet pavement to Mikoto's nose. A hover-limousine waited beneath canopy. One of the red-suited guards opened the rear door and the man climbed inside. Mikoto hesitated. When the man saw she did not follow him he moved to the doorway and beckoned her.

"I don't think so," she said. "I don't know who you are."

The man exited the car once more and stood with proper solemnity.

"Misaka Mikoto. I am Nakatomi Akimitsui . I represent the Mars Corporation. If you will accompany me I can answer the rest of your questions."

Mikoto crossed her arms and remained on the curb.

He smiled a grim but determined smile. "Misaka-chan, please. You are one of the two highest ranked electomasters on the planet..."

"Two?" she interrupted. "I'm the _only_ level five electromaster."

"That is one of the things I'd like to discuss with you. I assure you that no harm will come to you."

"I was just released from the UEF," she told him. "I'm – I'm not ready to join anything else just now."

"I understand, however my corporation is operating under a very tight schedule on our current project. We don't have much time. Again, I assure you we have your best interests at heart."

She shook her head and stepped back.

"I've been a member of groups that had my best interests at heart since I was ten years old, Nakatomi-san. I'd like to see what I can do for myself."

He nodded but the grim smile never left.

"So be it. You realize it is very likely that no one in the Pacific region will give you a job, and that any job you to find on Earth may be far below your talents?"

"I still know people at Academy City," she said.

Akimitsui stepped to the car and sat down.

"For your sake, I will wish you luck. I will be in touch with you in one week. After that time the Mars Corporation will be unable to assist you."

He closed the door and the car floated away from the curb out into the pouring rain. Mikoto stamped her foot and gritted her teeth as the limousine drove away.

"I should have asked for a ride," she said.

A week later Mikoto sat in a straight back metal chair facing a plain plastic desk in a room filled with dozens of identical metal chairs and plastic desks. Behind her desk sat a plain little woman with a face like a crow who smelt of too much fabric softener and too little bath soap. She read a tablet computer and ignored Mikoto while she absorbed the information. After a minute of uncomfortable silence the woman looked up. Mikoto had been wrong. The woman looked more like a raven.

"I can't see how I can find you any job in Tokyo," said the woman. "In fact, a job in the country might be out of the question."

She tapped the tablet and read again. "Perhaps India on a help desk or Korea. They have a new dam under construction there."

"I'll take anything," Mikoto told her. "If I can just work in Japan."

The woman shook her head. "I'm sorry, but there just isn't anything. You visited your old friends at Academy City, yes? How did that go?"

"They don't have a position right now.".

She shook her raven head without expression. "I'm very sorry. I'm required to ask why, however."

Mikoto swallowed. She dropped her eyes to the cheap desktop of the woman who now held so much power over her.

"They - they have UEF clearance on all projects. They aren't allowed to offer me a position."

The woman clicked her tongue and looked back at her pad. "That's too bad. Too bad."

Mikoto could just make out the twitch in the woman's cheek as she worked to suppress a smile.

"Well, I don't see..."

She tapped the tablet once more, then looked down her crooked nose at Mikoto as if she suspected the woman of tampering with something, then back at the tablet.

"What?" asked Mikoto.

"Are you aware of the Mars Corporation?" the woman asked.

Mikoto nodded. She closed her eyes and sagged.

"I'm required to offer you all applicable positions." She said 'required' as if she did not like the taste of the word. "It looks like they're searching for you by name. They say they have a job opening if you can contact them this morning."

Again Mikoto merely nodded.

"Did you hear me?" asked the woman. "They are willing to give you a job. You are very, very lucky."

"I heard you," said Mikoto.

The woman scowled at her, then wrote the information on a small scrap of paper and thrust it across the desk.

"You can use the booths in the entrance," she said. "You should call right now before they come to their senses."

Mikoto took the paper without looking.

"Arigato," she told the woman and left.

There were four booths for public communication in the lobby. She stepped into the last one, sat down on the steel bench and logged into her accounts.

"Mars Corporation," she told the computer. "Akimitsui Nakatomi." It was Google so she gave the American name order.

The computer returned a list of options and Mikoto selected face chat. The Google screen flashed and was replace by the clownish visage of Akimitsui Nakatomi in bow tie and suspenders.

"Ah! Mikasa-chan. Thank you so much for contacting me. Mars Corporation anticipates our work together to be of the utmost importance," he gushed. "I hope you have agreed to accept our offer?"

Mikoto took a deep breath and responded. "Will it be far from Tokyo?" she asked.

"The position will be near Mercury. That won't be a problem, will it?".

She shook her head. "That should be just far enough."

"Fine. Fine. Please be prepared to leave from Haneda airport Wednesday at eighteen hundred hours, Tokyo time."

Mikoto nodded. "I'll be there." She hung up to bury her face in her hands and weep.

"Kami-sama. Save me," she whimpered.

To be continued in Mars, Inc.

To read more back stories in the Mars, Inc. universe, try

Time to Travel – Ataru's Chance at Freedom

The Great Time Travel Adventure of the Dirty Pair


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